Breaking the habit
by SkyeElf
Summary: Hermione has this nasty habit of biting her fingernails... and Fred has just the solution. Fremione.


**A/N: This is for s new friend of mine, TheFanFicGirl. I don't own HP.**

**Breaking the habit**

Hermione was anxiously awaiting her OWL results. She'd completely forgotten about it until only minutes ago when Harry mentioned it. She sat down on the couch, not noticing who was next to her, and stared out the window.

She momentarily forgot about the OWLs as the sun casted its illuminating rays on the long grass. A soft breeze must be blowing, because the grass rustled the tiniest bit. Two pieces of grass got stuck on one another – it seemed as though they were wrestling for freedom as the wind blew harder. Then they were free. No victor had been announced – the wind from the opposite side had decided it was a draw.

One of the sunrays caught something shiny. Hermione winced, wanting to shield her eyes from the sharp light, until it moved. It was a rather large bug. It resembled a bee, but it was larger with tinier with. She still couldn't understand how bees flew. In theory, their wings were too small to support their bulky bodies. But it didn't seem to matter – not to the small creatures at least. They didn't know that, thus they didn't care.

She jumped when a hand appeared in front of her face. It took her hand away that was in front of her mouth. Or was it in her mouth?

"Why are you so nervous?" Fred questioned her. She didn't doubt for a second that it wasn't Fred – Fred's eyes were a bit paler than George's and his lips a bit plumper. There was also the little matter of a mischievous glint in Fred's eyes, a naughty glint; the roguish sparkle in George's eyes was a bit more innocent. The twins had arrived that morning saying they missed their mother's food. As soon as they saw Hermione's black eye, Fred had immediately administered the needed salve.

"I'm waiting for my OWL results." She answered as Fred inspected her fingernails.

"And you didn't have breakfast?" He asked, briefly glancing at her.

"I'm sorry?"

"Well, your fingernails looked so tasty by the way you were gnawing at them. I'm guessing you either didn't have breakfast or there is some residue of mum's cooking under these nails. And if there is, I want some too."

"Fred!" She groaned – he'd caused her to feel both insulted and disgusted at the same time. She attempted to whip her hand back, though ultimately failed (Fred was stronger than she thought).

"Hey, I'm kidding." He said softly. "But chewing your fingernails is a bad habit."

"I know," She sighed, "I don't know how or why it started…"

"I do. You stress too much, Hermione."

"I need to get somewhere, Fred. The future is out there."

"And it's scary, and vast and… I've heard it all before. But I don't know why you're worrying about it – you'll do good."

"Good?" Good wasn't enough.

"You'll do great – better?" He defended himself.

"Much better. But by vexing, I do good – it's how I do good and get by with your brother and Harry."

Fred laughed. "Yes, dealing with those two must be rather…"

"Don't say a word, just because they cause trouble doesn't mean you get to badmouth them!"

"I'm not, I swear, I was going to say those two cause distress to innocent souls everywhere. Though you should be glad you aren't stuck with George and I – we distress people even more."

"I wonder how Lee handles it."

"Privately, I wonder how my mother handles us all. We're a rough bunch to control."

"Your mum is a wonderful mother. She also has this stare that silences you immediately."

"You've never been at the receiving end of it, have you?"

"No. I don't intend to get there either. Now, may I please have my hand back?"

"Not a chance. You'll start chomping on your nails again – and I fear my mum might take offense in it."

"…because I'm chewing my fingernail, she'd be insulted?"

"And a bit angry – if you're so hungry, why didn't you take a second helping of breakfast?"

"But…"

"Yes, we're sitting on those."

She stared at him, flabbergasted.

"Is it your intent to unnerve me?"

"Yes." He said slowly, as if he'd been thinking about it. "And I enjoy holding your hand, thank you very much."

"What?"

"You have soft hands – has anyone ever told you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Are you hard of hearing? I said you have soft hands!" He said loudly. Hermione looked around the room, noticing for the first time they were alone in the living room. She vaguely wondered where the others were.

"Yes, I heard you – is this your attempt at flirting with me?"

"No."

"No?" She was confused – he'd been using a deep voice, caressing her hand… what was he doing if not flirting then?

"I wouldn't call it an attempt if I'm succeeding." He said coolly, placing a tender kiss on her fingertips. Hermione didn't know which way to turn. Should she sit and take it, or run and later pretend this never happened.

Fred looked up from her fingertips, keeping his head low. He pouted the tiniest bit.

"That is not fair – you are not allowed to pout!" She tried to pull her hand away again.

"And why is that, Granger?"

She grinned at the memory of fourth year.

"You're too cute for your own good!" Did she just say that? Fred must've been thinking the same thing, because his jaw hung open.

"Did you just admit that you like me?" He asked, regaining his composure.

"No – I admitted that you're an attractive male teenager."

"I am not a teenager!"

"My mistake – I meant toddler."

He faked an insulted expression. He drew himself up, pushing out his chest.

"I am a man, madam!"

"And just because you have three chest hairs you think that?" She teased him, trying to pull her hand back again.

"For crying out loud, Hermione, you are not getting your hand back, all right? There are far better things to taste than your fingernails! And I have more than three chest hairs!"

"Four then?" She was trying to distract him. He looked appalled.

"Are you questioning my manhood?"

"Can we please go to the next topic? This is on the way to becoming an incredibly disturbing conversation."

He opened his mouth to answer before closing it again.

"Fair point. Back to you feasting on your nails."

"No – next topic."

"It's not as disturbing as my manhood." He reasoned. He lifted her hand before entwining their fingers. "As I said, there are better and tastier things than your fingernails. I'm going to break you of this nasty habit once and for all."

"And how do you plan on doing that?"

He winked at her (the naughty side of him appearing) and let her finally have her hand. She felt the loss of his fingers between hers immediately, but she didn't allow herself to think about it – that would mean a potential crush development.

"Go get your results. Look, the owls are coming." He pointed out the window, where three black dots stained the sky. She jumped up, running to the window. Ron and Harry were in the kitchen, standing side by side, each praying they'd have at least passable results.

Hermione stood right in front of the window. Without any conscious thought, her thumbnail made its way under her teeth. She was caught of guard when Fred whirled her around and pressed a brief kiss to her lips. When he pulled back his hand remained in the small of her back.

"What was that for?" She asked, a bit out of breath.

"It's my way of breaking your habit. And I bet my lips tasted better than your thumbnail."

She smiled impishly and put her thumb back in her mouth. Fred grinned again, pulled her hand away and kissed her again. This time it wasn't brief. Their lips stayed locked for several seconds… finally her eyes fluttered closed, her hands snaked to his neck and locked behind it. Long fingers crept into his hair while he pulled her body against his…

They both juddered when an owl flew straight into them, forcing them apart. They laughed at the disgruntled owl. Its feathers were ruffled, and it glared at the pair of them. Fred picked it up and took the letter from it – the owl hooted disdainfully and flew off. He opened the letter and glanced at her results. Hermione tried to look upside down, but she couldn't see anything. Nervously she tripled, watching Fred's face for any news. He lowered the letter, a look of shock on his face.

"Hermione – I'm so glad you were chewing your nails – otherwise I would never have had the guts to do that."

"What does that have to do with my results?"

"Nothing, actually." He shrugged, handing her the letter. "You didn't need to worry, Hermione – you did great. And that's still an understatement."

Her eyes flew over everything. She didn't get an O in Defence Against the Dark Arts. The rest, yes, but that one E bothered her. Fred grabbed the paper from her grip and ran to the kitchen, singing at the top of his lungs. Hermione followed, shaking her head.

"My girlfriend got O's! My girlfriend got O's! Oh… and on E, but she's still a bloody genius!" He sang, ready to ruffle the entire kitchen.

**A/N: Please review!**


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